Damn Cold Night
by Anonymoustache
Summary: "Isn't anyone trying to find me? Won't somebody come take me home?" -Avril Lavigne, "I'm With You" - John has said the words Sherlock never thought he'd hear him say. Sherlock runs off into the night, unsure of what to do. Because, when the only person you trust completely betrays that trust, where do you go?


_A/N; So I promised myself I wouldn't do any new stories until I was done with my current ones._

_But here we are again, with a one (or two or three, because I can never just leave it alone) shot story filled with Johnlock angst and hurt/comfort goodness. Obviously I just can't stop XP_

_This fic is loosely based off "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne. Virtual cookies to anyone who listens to it on repeat while they read. I promise the feels will be beyond fantastic._

_Thanks again to readers, reviewiers, followers, and favoriters; you guys rock my world! :D_

_Ta,_

_Anonymoustache_

* * *

_"Couldn't you just be normal for once?"_

Sherlock shivered. The words still haunted him, words that he never thought he would hear John say.

It was dark outside, the moon hiding behind the storm clouds. The rails of the bridge rose up ominously behind him, casting long shadows around his still figure. He watched the raindrops fall around him, dripping onto his hair and coat.

There were no stars in the sky tonight.

* * *

_"Couldn't you just be normal for once?"_

John sat in Sherlock's chair, head in his hands. He had always promised himself he would never say those

Rain began to fall, pattering the roof of Baker Street. It was a damn cold night outside; darkness had fallen and Sherlock would surely be freezing by the time he came back.

There were no stars in the sky tonight.

* * *

_"John!"_

_Sherlock burst into the room, holding a test tube, an excited look on his face. "John, I finally..." he trailed off as John gave him a freezing glare._

_"Sherlock, in case you hadn't noticed, I have company." He gestured to his current girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her protectively. She snuggled into his side, giving Sherlock a freezing glare._

_"Oh." Sherlock frowned. "But John…I finally figured out what species of mold was in the refrigerator!"_

_John's girlfriend leapt up from the bed. "Mold?" she screeched. She turned to John, an angry look on her face. "John, I'm allergic to mold! Why would you let this…this…weirdo experiment with something I'm allergic to?"_

_Sherlock gave her an affronted look. Weirdo? "For your information, I was not experimenting with it…merely trying to determine exactly what type of mold it was."_

_She gave him a disgusted look. "__**You**__ are a creep." She turned to John. "And __**we**__ are over."_

_She snatched up her purse from the bedside table and rushed out the door without another word._

_Sherlock stared after her. "Well. What a nice person."_

_He turned and looked at John, who was staring down at the floor. He gently put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "John…"_

_John threw Sherlock's hand off. "Sherlock. Not now. Okay?"_

_"But John…" Sherlock trailed off. "I thought you'd be happy," he whispered._

_John exploded. "How could I be happy?!" he yelled. "You just lost me my girlfriend!"_

_"I'm sorry, John." Sherlock said, uncomfortable. "But…don't you think that she was a bit easy to lose? I mean, really…mold?"_

_John stood up, fuming. He poked his finger into Sherlock's chest. "She didn't leave because of the mold. She left because of __**you**__."_

_Sherlock knew it wasn't a good idea to poke the hornet's nest, but he couldn't resist. "She left because she was already planning on it days ago! Couldn't you tell?"_

_"Of course I couldn't!" John yelled. "I'm not the great Sherlock Holmes, now am I?"_

_"You're not, thank god," Sherlock shot back. "Lestrade would be even more lost than he usually is."_

_John's eyes went small and beady, anger written all over his face._

_"Couldn't you just be normal for once?"_

* * *

Sherlock couldn't tell whether those were raindrops or tears on his face.

* * *

John didn't know whether he should call Mycroft and Greg or just sit back and cry.

* * *

Sherlock watched the river water swirling around, forming dark eddies beneath the bridge. Rain gently spattered the surface, making the small surface tension circles that he had loved to watch as a little boy.

He shivered. The night was cold, and he was drenched to the bone, hands stark white.

Sherlock looked up at the sky.

_I trusted him._

The stars still did not shine.

* * *

John stood at the window, book in hand, watching the rainwater make little streams down the glass panes. The sound of raindrops pattering on the roof filled his ears.

He had to go after him. Find him. Apologize.

John looked out at the rain.

_He trusted me._

The stars still did not shine.

* * *

Sherlock's eyes fluttered, tears falling from his eyelashes. He was cold. So cold.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more, not now; now that he knew what John really thought.

His eyes drifted shut.

* * *

John jumped out of the cab and threw some money at the driver, telling him there was extra if he would wait here.

Up ahead, a figure was huddled at the side of the bridge.

_Sherlock._

The figure wasn't moving.

John ran faster than he ever had before.

* * *

"Sherlock?"

The body didn't move.

"Oh, no…God, no…"

John stooped down beside him and gently shook him. "Come on, Sherlock. Come back to me, Lock…please…"

Sherlock's eyes fluttered open. His face was streaked with tears. "J-John…" he choked out. "C-c-cold…"

"I know…I know…" John pulled off his own coat and wrapped it around the shivering detective. He helped him up carefully.

Sherlock was shaking badly. John put his arm around him to hold him up and led him to the cab.

* * *

"I didn't think you were going to find me."

John looked over at his friend, but Sherlock was facing straight forward and was unreadable.

"I didn't think you were going to come home," John said quietly.

Sherlock looked over at John. His eyes were full of pain.

"I didn't think you wanted me to come home."

John's eyes went wide. He gently wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled him close.

"No matter what I say, Sherlock Holmes, I will always want you to come home."

The stars shined brightly that night.


End file.
